St Ripper
by rubydesires
Summary: Before coming to Sunnydale, Giles had to make his money somehow.  NOTE:  This is a crack!fic and not for everybody.  Have a problem with male strippers?  Don't read!  You have been warned.


**An: **I have no idea why I'm posting this here. I have it up on deviantART, but why the hell am I putting it here? This is all my babe's fault. She may claim it wasn't but it was and then I needed to get it out of my system and this is what happened. Crack!fic ahead!

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Alex knew her mother was crazy, but she didn't know the woman was _that_ crazy. How many mothers took their still underage daughters to _male strip clubs_? Alex knew there was no way in hell they'd've gotten away with it back in America, but it seemed they didn't really care in London. Christine wanted her daughter to have fun before she started high school, because apparently high school wasn't going to be fun. Alex decided not to argue with her.

The sixteen year old was completely out of her element in the dim club, her hands in her lap and sitting up as if a rod had replaced her spine. Her grey eyes were wide as she took in the atmosphere. The prevailing emotion seemed to have been drunk horneyness. Thankfully, all of them were strangers and the empath was only aware of their emotions instead of actually feeling it. Otherwise, she'd end up creaming her pants because of everyone else. There was nothing worse than a stranger induced orgasm.

Alex watched in almost morbid curiosity as the various acts were performed. Sure, she liked men, but this was just . . . odd. Guys up there, swinging their junk. Then there was the Village People group, causing "Macho Man" to get stuck in her head, and there was the cowboy group with their assless chaps. Her mother was having fun, but Alex was just . . . staring. It was like a train wreck. She couldn't look away.

Then she heard the beginning notes of a very familiar song. She looked at her mother who winked at her.

"They call him the Saint," her mother said, talking in French.

"Why?"

"His stage name is St. Ripper, but everyone just calls him the Saint."

"What, does he dress up as a priest?"

Christine simply smiled and pointed to the stage. Alex's eyes followed and her jaw dropped. This Saint person wasn't dressed up as a priest. He wasn't even dressed up as anything religious. He had a black leather jacket on over a hot pink corset, what could only be described as booty shorts the same shade of pink, black fishnet stockings, and ankle boots with heels that would cause even Alex to faceplant. He was singing "Sweet Transvestite" from Rocky Horror Picture Show, so his act was much more burlesque like than any of the others.

Alex was staring again, but it wasn't out of morbid curiosity. She was actually enthralled. She truly _liked_ it.

When he got to the part about coming up to the lab, he jumped off the stage and walked towards their table, and Alex shot her mother a nervous look. She grinned, seeming to take some sadistic pleasure in her daughter's discomfort. When he finished the song, he was sitting on the table, legs crossed, and bare shoulder popped up. Christine slipped her daughter a twenty. After a moment, Alex handed it to St. Ripper and he grinned, ruffling her hair before going to collect the other bills.

**xxx**

A little over a year later, Alex was attending Sunnydale High. She'd heard rumors about Buffy, her friends, and the librarian. So one day, she decided to ditch math and go to the library. She walked in, and saw Mr. Giles, his back to her, standing by the table with an open book in his hand. He hadn't heard her walk in. Alex stared at him. She recognized his emotional signature.

_No way_, the empath thought. She grinned mischievously before slipping her white oxford shirt back behind her shoulders and slipped off the straps to her black tank and bra before jumping up on the counter, and mimicking his pose from the year before. "So why St. Ripper?"

Giles jumped about a foot in the air and spun to look at her, startled. "Wh-what?"

"Why did you pick the name St. Ripper?"

"I-I-I have no idea what you are referring to."

"Yes, you do."

He stared at her a moment more. "You're the little French girl. The one who was doing her best to emulate a statue."

Alex gave a small, awkward laugh, and pushed her hair behind her ears. "Yeah . . . I'm Alex, by the by. Alex Spencer."

"Ripper."

"Hm?"

"My nickname is Ripper."

"Oh, so where did Saint come from?"

Giles shrugged. "Because a saint is the one thing I'm not."

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**AN:** Feel free to shoot me. xD


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